


Your Equal

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Series: Brainfarts That Ruin The Ozone Layer [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 30 Day AU Challenge, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Cullen is a mage, Drug Addiction, F/M, Gen, Lyrium Addiction, Not Beta Read, Number 1: Fantasy, Pre - relationship - Freeform, Trevelyan is the Commander, obvious rivalmance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: Day 1 of 30 Days AU Challenge.A mage with zero potential and complicated life, Cullen finds himself branded at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Commander of the newly formed Inquisition does not like him and has many reasons to do so - no good people ever came from Hawke's posse. Or was there ever time she thought otherwise?A non - chronological collection of one-shots featuring (mostly) angry interactions between Cullen and Trevelyan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hai there! To spice up my life, I picked up a 30 day AU challenge. Because I like AUs. But how do I do Fantasy from something that is already Fantasy? "Eh," said my brain. "Just roll with it." And roll I did.
> 
> If you have questions, remarks or ideas for prompts, hit me at my tumblr [The Golden Sheep of Honnleath](http://thegoldensheepofhonnleath.tumblr.com/), I will be happy to oblige.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this brainfart! I always welcome kudos and comments. they make me happy!^^

He breathed in sharply and braced himself, watching Seeker Pentaghast pushing open the heavy door within the Chantry. It had been too hectic for her to really recognise him, more so under all the layers of dirt and blood but he sure remembered _her_. One of the two harpies of Kirkwall, the famed porcelain ice queen with no warmth to spare.

Seeker’s broad back shielded him from the views of the others and he heard her speak sternly, underlying every word.

“There will be no quarrels within this room in _my_ presence, Commander. The prisoner is too important.”

And then she was gone, armoured hand prodding him forward. He winced but had stubbornly lifted his chin up, golden eyes meeting ice - blue ones of the woman in the centre.

“ _You!_ ” more a hiss then a word fell from woman’s mouth at the sight, and she leaned forward, leather of her gloves creaking as her hands curled up in fists.

“Knight - Captain Trevelyan,” Cullen answered, crossing arms on his chest. “It saddens me to see you alive and well.”

“Likewise,” she spat and straightened her back, white hair contrasting against her maroon surcoat, made so much tackier by the collar of dark fur that rested on her shoulders. “Why are you not with your terrorist friend, Rutherford?”

”Because I chose to stay and help.”

***

Trevelyan had right to wonder - Cullen and Anders had been inseparable since the moment the very promising templar - to - be had a misfortune to discover he had magic abilities; right after finishing the Vigil.

Even now, twelve years later, Cullen still could recall the exact moment it all went wrong and his perfect life had turned into a nightmare. As the first swig of lyrium slid down his throat, the cool sensation had turned into a fiery agony. The vial slid out of his hands and Cullen started shaking uncontrollably. He was scared, it felt as if he was about to burst into flames. 

_Cold._

The word flashed in his head just then and, as in some twisted dream, Cullen watched a faint blue light leave his fingertips, forcing a sharp icicles erupt from the ground. And then came the Holy Smite.

Knight - Commander Greagoir left for Kinloch Hold the next day with three new recruits and a mage, whose hands were bound and whose whole life had been shattered in a matter of seconds.

Cullen hated every brick in the Fereldan Tower. Hated templars staring because he knew they talked about a jailer becoming prisoner. A man whose magic was so weak only lyrium would let him use his skills properly. Yet that happening alone had opened him to the Fade and Cullen had to be confined within these walls. Among all that misery a mage called Anders saw a kindred spirit and approached Cullen with a preposition, which the man had hastily accepted.

From then on, the life had been one big and restless adventure, which reached its peak after meeting the Warden Commander and started slowly deteriorating when his friend became buddies with the spirit of Justice. The rest, as they say, is history.

***

“Enough!” Cassandra interjected, frowning at Weiss Trevelyan. “Rutherford here is the only survivor of the Conclave and the only one with the means to seal the Breach. People witnessed him coming out of the Fade and, what they believe to be, a figure of Andraste guiding him.”

“ _He_ is the Herald of Andraste?” Weiss’ intonation seemed to cool the air around them, making the small red - headed woman throw him a curious stare. “Maker preserve us.” her heels clicked briskly on the floor as she came close, gloved hand unceremoniously grabbing his left arm and pulling the sleeve up to expect the mark. It looked like an ugly burn, scar tissue crumpled together, preventing him from fully opening the palm. Dim pulsating green lines snaked away from the centre of his hand and ran underneath the skin, disappearing mid - forearm.

“Do not treat me like I am cattle, Knight - Captain!” Cullen pushed her hand away and stepped back. “I am not one of your charges.”

“This is not my title anymore.” she bristled. “Furthermore, I have no concern to spare for the likes of _you_. Not when we are at the brink of a disaster.”

“You had plenty of concern to spare on several occasions.” he answered dryly and watched the remaining colour leave her face. It must have been adrenaline and a sensation of magic coursing in his veins that pushed Cullen to be brash and non - compliant. The Mark made him feel whole. “You could never resist a pretty mage, Serah Weiss. Especially the one that had never bowed to your will. Your equal.”

“Serah Trevelyan,” the red - headed woman stepped forward, soft smile on her lips as she held back the Commander with surprisingly iron grip.“Perhaps we should offer the Herald the benefit of the doubt. Maker’s will is not always clear to us.”

“You are free to go, Rutherford,” Weiss said slowly, eyes burrowing in his face. “But I will be watching you. _Very attentively._ ”

“I would be alarmed if you didn’t. By your leave.” he took a short bow and disappeared behind the door.


	2. Failure

That insufferable and disobedient mage, always a step ahead of her and, once Hawke entered the scene, completely untouchable. He had the audacity to walk in broad daylight while pestering her and her templars, enjoying the freedoms of being under Champion’s wing. But Weiss was no fool and she knew his one weakness - magic. Cullen Rutherford was fractured, in a way. She sensed he was connected to the Fade the way only mages are but there was no significant magic in him to speak of. Trevelyan saw him fight once and, truth be told, it made her all the more curious, for the man fought as an exemplary templar.

***

The alleys of Kirkwall were quiet and dark, her footsteps echoing rhythmically on the cobblestones. A tall figure detached itself from the thick shadows underneath the balcony and stepped into the moonlit square on the ground. The bastard looked magnificent and Weiss felt a long forgotten tug in her abdomen as she approached him.

“Knight - Captain.” Cullen acknowledged dryly, staring her down even though there was but few inches height difference between them.  

“You have the gall meeting me like this, I give you that.” Weiss threw a heavy white lock away from her face, meeting his gaze. "Or am I to expect your buddy Hawke swoop in and save you like a maiden in distress?"

“A year ago I would refuse your little game,” he answered, crossing hands on the chest and letting her see the muscles rolling underneath thin linen shirt. A body of a warrior, not of a pitiful mage. “Now, you cannot touch me.”

He must have noticed anger flash in her ice - blue eyes for his perfect lips cracked in a roguish grin. “Must be hard for you, Serah Trevelyan.”

“Why are you here?” she demanded, voice shaking from suppressed fury. Few talked to her in such a manner and even less could tell about it. “What are you really?”

He chuckled - a velvety sound that made her insides clench yet again in the most embarrassing of longings.

“Something you obviously want, Knight - Captain.”

Weiss gasped and her hand flew upwards but he was faster. Cullen grabbed her iron - clad wrist and moved his face even closer, the irises reminded Trevelyan of a molten lava.

“Controversially to your opinions, _templar_ , people are not idiots. Are you out of playthings to kick around? Or are you tired of them expiring so quickly, unable to keep up with your pace?” when Weiss answered nothing, he scoffed and let her hand go. “Thought so. Then again,” the mage muttered softly. “It almost flatters me the Harpy has an eye on one of, what you call us again?”

“ _Filth_.” she hissed, simultaneously wanting to hit him in the face and taste those gorgeous lips. She had never laid with one of them. And this one, he would suffice for he had no corruption within him.

“Beg.”

“No.”

“Then we part ways and isn’t it a pity, Knight - Captain?”

She rammed into him unexpectedly, making Cullen stumble against the wall of the narrow alley. Using his confusion Weiss pinned his hands down with hers, using the weight of the templar armor in her advantage and unceremoniously sought his lips. They were as soft and perfect as she imagined them and what even more surprising, they were welcoming. Trevelyan let herself drown in that kiss and her guard crumbled, only to feel a hard yank on her hair a moment later, forcing her to stop.

“ _Lyrium_.” Cullen licked his lips and she saw his pupils widening slowly, as he sucked air through gritted teeth.

Very curious. Not a reaction she expected from a mage. She had seen it in templars plenty of times, herself included.

Her laughter was like a bundle of silver bells bouncing off the walls. The abomination had a weak spot after all and she will be damned if she does not play it in her advantage.

“You want some?” she watched his chest heave unevenly, molten lava engulfed by the darkness. “Come and get it, _failure_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suddenly felt like writing a little drabble about those two. Cullen is kind of really OOC in here. Then again, he did not go through what the original one experienced and he does have cocky side to him. Plus, he REALLY dislikes Trevelyan and these kind of feelings tend to make people douches.
> 
> Also, I am playing with some weird 'pulled out of ass' lyrium ideas so if you are searching for passable lore, there is none xD
> 
> I welcome requests, if you want to see more of those. Just... No actual smut. I don't really write that. :)


	3. Once Upon A Time In Kirkwall

It felt so cool against his skin. Carefully he curled the fingers around the fragile vial and reveled in the feeling of comfort, hearing a soft familiar hum at the edges of his mind. Lyrium was calling to him, promising a safe feeling of belonging - something that Cullen yearned for since the moment of his failed Vigil.

Back at the Tower, curious about his peculiar situation, First Enchanter sanctioned for Cullen to receive lyrium on a weekly basis to observe liquid’s influence over the boy’s magic. It would always hurt mercilessly when he took it but the pain would pass quickly, leaving Cullen able to cast spells just like any other apprentice within the Circle’s walls. But the reserve was not infinite and if the spells were too complex or he had to cast them uninterrupted, lyrium would disappear from his blood in a matter of two days at most, leaving Cullen exhausted, powerless and starving for more. Emotional addiction had quickly become physical, rendering him sick if he went longer than a week and a half without the next dose.

He hated the First Enchanter for what the man was doing to him. Behind the wrinkled face with friendly eyes and a soft smile hid a man who addicted Cullen to lyrium just to study the kid’s connection to the magic and the Fade. 

Long after they have fled the Tower, Anders used his extensive knowledge and healing to keep Cullen’s addiction at bay and he was successful for quite a while. That is, until Hawke made herself famous enough for the Knight - Captain of Kirkwall’s templars to take a very special interest in the people that were working with the Champion. She singled him out quick enough and followed his every move until they have finally met face to face - a mistake Cullen so dearly wished he had never done.

The moment their lips touched that night in the dark alley, she chained him to herself with an invisible but a very strong leash. How she had figured out what he was - Cullen never asked, he did not want the templar woman digging too deep, endangering the affairs of his friends. In retrospect he wished he did, perhaps then that son of a whore Anders would not blow up the Chantry, effectively ending the world as everyone knew it.

Weiss gave him lyrium but just about enough so Cullen would come back. He would not beg, no matter how much pain he was in, and made sure she worked hard for what she needed out of this twisted relationship based on mutual dislike - his body and services it provided. Cullen had almost felt like a common whore himself if not for the fact that the vile woman was damn good in bed.

But the word got around, it always does and he saw his companions, who had by now become friends, distance themselves from him. Everyone had their reasons, Anders was outright disgusted. Or was it Justice? Cullen smiled bitterly, remembering that by that time the line between the two had blurred significantly. He would _never_ tell on them, he was better than that but his arguments fell on deaf ears. And, as it turned out, it was not him who had betrayed everyone’s trust.

The pain made Cullen open his eyes and uncurl the tightly clenched fist. The precious liquid pooled in his palm, the blood from the cuts making it more red than blue.

“Red lyrium.” he muttered softly, standing up to tend to the wound. As he sat down few moments later, clean bandage covering the cuts, Cullen yanked the drawer of the table open, witnessing several more lyrium vials rolling towards him. As the Herald of Andraste he did not need a supplier anymore, the Ambassador took care of that. The thought of Knight - Captain’s impotent fury made him grin widely. She was present during that decision and he could see the disappointment and anger in her clear blue eyes.

Cullen was ready to pick up another bottle when a soft jolt of discomfort ran up his arm and settled down in his spine before disappearing completely. He looked at his left arm, watching dim green flashes birthing and dying underneath his skin. The Anchor had rendered his shield arm useless but it brought something in return - the constant presence of magic, something Cullen had never felt before. While he still was not able to call upon the elements, Cullen discovered that he could manipulate the raw Fade magic. It was different than the casting he had learned in the Circle, more intuitive and primal but with the help of Solas he was starting to get the hang of it.

Lyrium was not needed anymore, Cullen could cast and there was no limit of what he could do. And if he can weather the storm, he will not need it ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I elaborated somewhat more on Cullen's relationship with lyrium and his 'relationship' with Trevelyan. Like I said - lyrium canons? What canons? Whatever gives me some extra angst!
> 
> If you, guys, have any wishes or prompts regarding this universe, I am all ears.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome, I like to hear from people ^___^
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
